Sticks and Stones
by Jay-Leigh17
Summary: It won't matter that you're starting to believe the hateful things she says. Because one day she'll turn to you again. And her words will be different. Sweeter.


Okay, so. I've been gone for a long time. I know. But I'm trying to get back into things.

And, I know this doesn't have any names, and I did that on purpose. I stuck it under Emily and JJ because I had a story I needed to tell, and since they're one of my favorite ships, I originally wrote it that way. And then I decided to revamp it a little bit, so that it might relate to more people. Also, because maybe not everybody can see those characters like this. (I kept it under them because most of my other stories are here, so it made sense.)

So, change the names if you want. Change the genders. Do whatever it is that you need to do, for you.

* * *

"Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me." - Nursery Rhyme

* * *

It hurts, to be near her.  
To know that any minute she's going to turn around and look at you, and you'll be lost in her.

And it won't matter that she's yelling _(not good enough)_ at you.  
And it won't matter that she's accusing you _(why don't you just fuck him)_ of everything under the sun.  
And it won't matter that the words _(whore)_ coming out of her mouth _(slut)_ are hateful.

It won't matter that you're _(easy)_ starting to believe her.

Because tomorrow, or else the next day she'll turn and look at you again.  
And her words will be _(I love you)_ different.  
They'll be _(I'm sorry)_ sweet.  
And it won't matter that _(I promise I won't do it again)_ they ring with an unbearably loud untruthfulness.  
It won't matter that you're already _(it hurts me when you hurt)_ shying away _(again)_ from her.

Because you live for the days when she smiles at you.  
It's proof that you _(didn't do anything wrong)_ finally did something right.  
And it doesn't matter that those days are _(disappearing)_ few and far between.  
And it doesn't matter that it changes _(why did you have to go and do that)_ so suddenly.

Because you can still remember what it felt like when you were _(loved)_ good enough.

Sometimes, in the heat of an argument, you say things _(what about me)_ you never admitted you felt.  
Things _(you're twisting everything around)_ that you know are going to make _(things worse)_ her angry.  
Things _(I hurt)_ that you never dreamed you could say _(you hurt me)_ to her.

But she _(I don't need this shit)_ cuts you back down.  
She reminds you _(I'm trying to tell you how I feel)_ what is really important.  
She _(you pushed me too far)_ scares you.

And suddenly it doesn't matter that after two years you haven't realized that flinching doesn't protect you from the words that don't leave marks.  
All that matters is making her happy.  
Because she _(nobody else could ever love you)_ is your everything.  
And it wasn't always _(I'm the only one who cares about you)_ like this.  
And what would happen to you if _(you're not worthy of love)_ she left.

So you try _(I'll do better)_ harder.  
And hope it will _(finally)_ be enough.  
You give _(yourself up to make her happy)_ everything to her.

But one day _(this isn't even a relationship anymore)_ the good days stop.  
She _(you're (a complete psycho) sick)_ turns on you.  
And she _(I'm so fucking done with you)_ leaves.  
She's _(I can't believe i put up with you for so long)_ gone.  
And you're _(drowning)_ alone.  
Because you _(didn't do anything)_ tried _(everything)_ harder.

And for nine more months, you believe everything she ever said about you.

Because that's how long it takes you to realize that _(you can breathe again)_ this feeling _(relief)_ isn't like water rushing down on you.  
To realize that you're still alive. That everything she _(said)_ did to you, all the marks that nobody else could see, didn't _(quite)_ kill you.  
That the parts of you that you gave up for her, are _(hopefully)_ still there, deep down, somewhere.

It takes you nine months to think for the first time, that maybe one day, you're going to be okay.

* * *

So, there's that.  
This wasn't the story I intended to write, when I sat down.  
But it's the one I needed to tell.

Leave me a review, if you like.

I hope everything has been alright with you guys.  
And hopefully I'll be back soon.


End file.
